1. |
Summer Funerary Ritual
01:45
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2. |
Demonic Prowler
02:30
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Clothed in blood soaked leather.
The face obscured.
Slobbering with hatred.
The blade plunged in flesh,
fragments of bone and skin splatter with each knife blow.
Oh, I can smell the filthy christian blood in your veins.
To prowl the night, To make graveyards of your cities.
Moon glow illuminates my blade.
Demonic Prowler.
Removing the eyes and drinking the blood.
I carved my name into your chest.
Demonic Prowler, I do the work of lucifer.
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3. |
Tomb Made Flesh
02:33
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Descending from flesh.
Tearing and pulling at my worthlessness.
I was made in the image of your fucking king.
Bow before me, a god made flesh.
Tearing and ripping pieces of bloody bruised skin within my jagged teeth.
Pulling from arms and legs.
A symphony of pain.
taste of your new god.
In this house of holy.
To ejaculate on gold pages.
I spread my seed.
The right arm of god, vengeful.
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4. |
From Under the Cross
02:54
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Your sinful christian flesh,
submission for the cold embrace of the blade.
For your flawed king your soul, for me,
a chasm of lust.
To break skin to crawl on all fours of broken glass.
Dog teeth, snarl and drool, small death.
Leather clad hands they move across your trembling pale frame.
Pink folds of flesh, the hands are filthy they care not, of scripture.
White teeth, break skin for this is my body.
I wear the scars of jesus christ.
Featureless, under the cross,
swinging the blade in heavenly service.
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5. |
Caput Lupinum
04:04
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A nightly festival.
A daily sacrifice.
A blood soaked ritual.
The brutal north now cleansed in ice.
The beast returns from within the man,
Our souls transcend this worldly plain.
The heathen spirit takes its final stand.
Decadence, pleasure and pain.
The ancient fires burn once more,
worship of death we stand before.
Blood circles bound by candlelight.
Caput Lupinum, the echoes in the night.
Behold, the chosen few.
Gather now the veil grows thin,
Cast down, but not subdued,
conjure up the strength from within,
Sever not, the horns from your head,
into battle we'll go once again.
Ignite the pyres of the honorable dead,
to the wolfs head,
We are sworn.
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6. |
Waiting Mortuary
02:16
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Stake Driver Dayton, Ohio
Feral Black Metal from the midwest.
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